


who saved who?

by professortennant



Category: The Worst Witch - All Media Types
Genre: AU, F/F, Fluff, Pet Shelter AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-09 04:03:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13473297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/professortennant/pseuds/professortennant
Summary: Hecate puts her mop aside and leans down, scooping the old cat in her arms and scratching down its back affectionately. “Someone is coming for you, I promise, old girl. You’re not abandoned, yet.” For a moment, she's not sure if she means these words for the cat or herself. She nuzzles the cat and hides a smile into her soft fur.





	who saved who?

Hecate turns to volunteering at Cackle’s Animal Shelter every weekend (and during the week, too, when she can find the time). There’s something about these animals–alone, forgotten, a little broken, and still a little hopeful someone will come along and rescue them–that draws her in.

She finds a comfort in these creatures, particularly a nuisance of a kitten she’s called Hubble. It perches on her shoulder and claws at the hem of her flowing skirts. She sneers and chastises it but Hubble happily mews and purrs, rubbing herself against Hecate’s hand affectionately, paying her sharp words no mind.

This shelter is her sanctuary as much as it is theirs. 

She spends the day cleaning out the kittens’ room–changing litter, replacing bedding, adding toys and enrichment activities, and mopping the floor. The cats and kittens happily meow and bounce from surface to surface, watching as she works. There’s an older cat (she’s named her Constance and already has plans to take her home if no one adopts her by the end of the week) that doesn’t move from her corner, though.

Hecate puts her mop aside and leans down, scooping the old cat in her arms and scratching down its back affectionately. “Someone is coming for you, I promise, old girl. You’re not abandoned, yet.” For a moment, she's not sure if she means these words for the cat or herself. She nuzzles Constance and hides a smile into her soft fur.

A cough sounds behind her and Hecate whirls around, clutching Constance to her chest. Standing in the doorway is a woman dressed head-to-toe in various shades of pink, blonde hair slicked back into a ponytail, and a warm smile on her face. 

Hecate scowls at her, embarrassed at being caught giving reassurances to the feline, embarrassed at being caught in a moment of vulnerability. She gently places Constance back on the bed and draws herself up to her full height, looking down at the newcomer. 

“Can I help you?” she hisses out. She can feel the warmth in her cheeks and knows she’s blushing. Despite her embarrassment, she can’t help but notice the woman before her is rather attractive and, if she had a little more confidence, she would have noticed the woman similarly eyeing her right back. 

The woman–Pippa, she introduces herself–is looking to adopt a new companion. Hecate arches a brow and inclines her head to the row of kittens and puppies. “You can take a look behind you. The younger animals are all out front.”

Her tone is dismissive. She’s seen women just like Pippa come through Cackle’s doors over and over again–only interested in young kittens and puppies, looking for an accessory to their life and an Instagram subject. 

“Actually,” Pippa says, stepping forward, eyes already alight and taking in the feline residents of the room Hecate is cleaning. “I was hoping for an older cat.” She immediately drops to her knees and begins fawning over Constance, cooing softly at the old, grumpy cat. 

Hecate finds herself tongue-tied at the sight before her and a fresh round of flush spreads across her cheeks–this time because she has been utterly, utterly wrong. 

The apology sticks in her throat and her discomfort at apologizing must show because Pippa laughs and waives her off with a friendly grin. “Don’t strain yourself, Hiccup.”

Hecate freezes at the name. “It’s Hecate,” she corrects tersely.

Pippa just smiles wider and shrugs, her attention already returning to Constance who has begun bumping her head against Pippa’s hand, desperate for more attention.

Traitor.

“When you have selected the cat you wish to take home, come find me. I shall walk you through the paperwork and fees.”

Pippa appraises her for a moment, absentmindedly stroking Constance. Hecate stands there, acutely aware she is in dark black scrubs covered in cat hair, her hair is pulled into a messy bun with wisps flying away at her temples, and she hasn’t showered since late last night and there’s a faint aroma of bleach and wet dog about her. 

She hastily smooths her hands over her hair and down her front, hoping the gesture appears natural and not as an attempt to fix her appearance. She returns Pippa’s stare and notices for the first time how beautiful her eyes are–all soft brown, like her own personal light is shining. 

Hecate watches as Pippa’s eyes travel over her body before returning to her face, that wide, bright grin still on her face. “I’ll make sure I come find you, Hiccup.”

This time Hecate blushes at the name and shuffles awkwardly to the door, intending to barricade herself in the shelter’s office. Anything to hide from Pippa’s inquisitive eyes. 

She nods at Pippa, still watching her, still scratching the back of Constance’s ears, and makes her exit.

It’s here, where her foot is out the door, that she overhears Pippa murmuring to Constance, “Looks like you’re not the only one that needs rescuing here, sweetheart.”

Warmth blooms in Hecate’s chest and she hurries to the office, ignoring the way her heart is hammering in her chest and the fantasies filling her head at Pippa’s words: Pippa running her hand through her hair, Pippa dragging her nails down the curve of her back, Pippa taking her home–a real place to call home–and never letting her go.

Perhaps, after the adoption papers are completed, if Hecate asks nicely, Pippa will permit her to come visit Constance. And perhaps, she could bring dinner. And perhaps, perhaps, Pippa could let her stay, too, when it became obvious she was visiting Pippa more than Constance. 

Perhaps…


End file.
